Losing You
by Jemi Gr
Summary: [CATS fic] Jemima is missing, the Jellicles have begun to think the worst, and Pouncival learns that sometimes you need to let go. Love never dies. *Complete!*


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Losing You   


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Jemi Gr.

  
She had been missing for two months. No one knew how. No one knew why. There were search parties out every day, but everyone had begun to give up on finding her. Everyone figured she had met her death in the paws of the Napoleon of Crime, though no one said it. The optimistic cats said that perhaps she had found a nice family to take her in, but no matter what, everyone agreed on one thing: it would be a miracle if Jemima was found.  
  
*~*  
  
"Come on, Pouncival, let's go bug someone!" said the bouncy voice of Pouncival's best friend Tumblebrutus.  
  
"Not now, Tumble," muttered Pouncival quietly.  
  
"That's all I ever hear these days," moaned Tumblebrutus. "'Not now, Tumble.' 'Maybe later, Tumble.' 'Go away, Tumble.' What's the matter with you? Don't you want to bug anyone any more?"  
  
"Don't you care?" cried Pouncival, his eyes flashing. "Jemima's gone and she's probably never coming back! Doesn't that matter to you?"  
  
Tumblebrutus blinked. "Of course it matters, Pounce. But you have to get over it eventually. Life goes on."  
  
"Not for her!" cried Pouncival. "Life won't go on for her! She's probably dead! It's not fair! If her life can't go on, why should mine?"  
  
"Because you're not her," said Tumblebrutus. "Yeah, I know, it's sad and everything, but you have to learn to deal with it. It's part of life."  
  
Pouncival shook his head. "I loved – I love her, Tumble! And now she'll never know!"  
  
"You love her?" asked Tumblebrutus incredulously.  
  
"Yeah, so what?" mumbled Pouncival, now rather embarrassed. "Go away. Maybe Plato or Admetus will bother someone with you."  
  
"I am sad, you know," said Tumblebrutus quietly. "She was one of my good friends. And she was a good singer."  
  
"I don't miss her singing voice, Tumble," murmured Pouncival.  
  
"Yeah, I know," said Tumblebrutus. There was a pause. "Munkustrap said that it's okay to be sad for a while. He said it's normal. But he also said that eventually we have to move on."  
  
"She's not dead," said Pouncival firmly.  
  
Tumblebrutus was not sure what to say, so he just nodded. "Yeah," he mumbled.  
  
"Go play with Admetus," said Pouncival.  
  
Tumblebrutus could tell his friend wanted to be alone. "Yeah, okay," he said quietly, and then scurried away with just one final look back towards Pouncival.  
  
He doesn't understand, thought Pouncival bitterly. No one understands. They've never lost someone they love. Never. They live their stupid little perfect lives; never know any pain or anything. Jemima is gone. She will probably never come back. How could they not care about her?  
  
"Don't think that," said a voice behind him. Pouncival jumped, and turned around to see Mistoffelees sitting there, looking at him.  
  
"How long… how did you… what…" stammered Pouncival. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I meant exactly what I said," said Mistoffelees in the tone of voice that suggested that the magician thought he was talking to butter. Pouncival would have commented on it had he not been so upset. "Don't think that no one besides you cares about Jemima. They do."  
  
"Then why is everyone giving up? Acting like she's dead and such," mumbled Pouncival.  
  
"That doesn't mean they don't care about her," said Mistoffelees. "And besides, just because they aren't out there every minute looking for doesn't mean they are giving up hope. Think about Jennyanydots and Skimbleshanks: she's their daughter, do you think that they're going to give up on her? And Munkustrap, you know Munkustrap, he doesn't give up on anything."  
  
"She's dead, isn't she," sighed Pouncival. It was more of a statement then a question.  
  
"I wish I knew," said Mistoffelees.  
  
"You should know," said Pouncival angrily. "You're a magician, can't you just snap your fingers and bring her back like you did with Old Deuteronomy?"  
  
"It's not that simple," said Mistoffelees. "I have to know where they are in order to bring them somewhere, and I knew where Old Deuteronomy was. But no one knows where Jemima is. So I can't. I'm sorry."  
  
"But can't you use your… powers to find her?" asked Pouncival hopefully.  
  
"I can't do everything, Pouncival. I have limits. I'm sorry."  
  
Pouncival sighed. "It's not your fault."  
  
Mistoffelees sighed. "Just don't make the mistake of thinking that you are the only one in the Junkyard that cares about Jemima. We all do."  
  
"But I loved her," whispered Pouncival quietly.  
  
"So did I!" cried Mistoffelees, exasperated. "We all did! But Pouncival, sometimes you just have to learn when to let go! The only thing we can do now is pray to the Everlasting Cat that, wherever she is, she's happy."  
  
Pouncival sighed. "No offense, Mistoffelees, but I really don't want to talk to anyone right now."  
  
Mistoffelees got up and nodded. "Understood," he said before slinking off into the darkness.  
  
Pouncival sat alone for a few minutes, listening to the silence, and thinking of her. Why did this have to happen to Jemima? Sweet, innocent, bouncy Jemima. Just thinking of her made him smile. He loved her.  
  
"Pouncival," said a rough voice behind him.  
  
"What is this, annoy Pouncival day?" muttered Pouncival. "First Tumble, then Mistoffelees, now-"  
  
He had turned around to see whom the voice belonged to, but was scared speechless by what he saw. There, standing right in front of him, were four of the largest, ugliest, dirtiest cats he'd ever seen. They could only be one thing: servants of Macavity.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he hissed angrily.  
  
"Lady Jemima desires to speak with you," said one of the cats. "We will not harm you if you come quietly."  
  
"Jemima?" he whispered.  
  
"Yes, the Lady Jemima," sighed one of the cats. "Will you come quietly?"  
  
"Yes," said Pouncival immediately. "I'll come."  
  
"Follow us." The cats led Pouncival out of the Junkyard and down a small path into the woods. They walked briskly for about five more minutes until they came to a secluded clearing. Two more large cats stood there, and sitting peacefully on the ground was Jemima.  
  
"Jem!" cried Pouncival, rushing up to the queen. She smiled at him, and then turned to the other cats.  
  
"Would you kindly give us a few minutes alone?" she asked, still smiling.  
  
"Yes, lady," said one of the cats, and the six of them disappeared.  
  
Pouncival took a deep breath and began. "Jemima! I can't believe it's you! Everyone thought you were dead! What are you doing here with those guys? They look like the henchcats of Macavity! But it doesn't matter anyway, I've found you and now we can both go home."  
  
Jemima looked at him with her big brown eyes. "Unfortunately, Pouncival, the Junkyard is no longer my home," she said, with just a trace of sorrow in her voice.  
  
"So you found a family? That's great. Hey, maybe they live near my family! What's the address?"  
  
Jemima sighed. "Pouncival, I didn't find a family. I found a… I found a mate."  
  
Pouncival eyes got wide. "You found a mate? Wow… uh… that's great, Jemima, I'm… uh… I'm really happy for you."  
  
"Thanks, Pouncival," smiled Jemima. "I knew you'd understand."  
  
"So what's his name? When are you going to bring him round to the Junkyard? Is he going to be made a Jellicle?"  
  
Jemima sighed again. "I can't bring him round to Junkyard, Pounce."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because… he's not exactly a cat that the Jellicles would approve of," said Jemima.  
  
"Oh," said Pouncival, now rather confused. There weren't many cats that didn't get along with Old Deuteronomy. Munkustrap was a different story, however, he was a little more protective... but still a very nice cat. And he would certainly be nice to any of the tribe's mate, right?  
  
"What's his name?" asked Pouncival, out of curiosity.  
  
Jemima winced, and took a deep breath. "Macavity," she said, in barely a whisper.  
  
"What?" cried Pouncival. "No… not him… anyone but him… please, Jem, tell me you're joking…"  
  
"But I'm not," said Jemima sincerely.  
  
"Jemi… he can't love you… he's only using you for something," said Pouncival.  
  
"No, Pouncival, he's not," said Jemima. "He loves me, and I love him. I'm sorry."  
  
"But how could you love… him?" asked Pouncival. "He's evil! Think of all the times he's hurt the Jellicles!"  
  
"Don't judge him, Pouncival," said Jemima. "You don't know anything about him. He just needed someone. He just needed me. I can swear to you he will not harm any of the Jellicle again. He loves me."  
  
"But I love you too!" cried Pouncival.  
  
Jemima looked at him sadly. "I know, and I'm sorry. But if you love me Pouncival, you'll do this for me: go back to the Junkyard. Tell my parents I love them and I will never forget them. Tell everyone I'll miss them, and tell them that where I am going I will be happy. Just please, don't tell them about Macavity. Please."  
  
Pouncival looked into her deep brown eyes. "I promise," he whispered.  
  
"Thank you," mumbled Jemima.  
  
"Are you sure you'll be happy with him?" asked Pouncival.  
  
"Yes," said Jemima solemnly. "I'm positive."  
  
Pouncival sighed. "Alright then."  
  
"I'll miss you, Pouncival," said Jemima.  
  
"I'll miss you too," he replied.  
  
"Come on, you guys," Jemima called into the woods. The six henchcats reappeared.  
  
"Right this way, Lady Jemima," said one of them, motioning deeper into the woods.  
  
"Goodbye, Pouncival," whispered Jemima.  
  
"Goodbye," replied Pouncival sadly. "I'll miss you."  
  
"I'll miss you too," said Jemima, a small smile appearing on her face. With that, she and the six other cats disappeared into the dense forest.  
  
Pouncival started the trek back towards the Junkyard with one final look at the direction in which Jemima and the henchcats had gone. "Goodbye, Jemima," he whispered. "I'll never forget you."  
  
With that, he turned around and headed back to the Junkyard to start his life without her. The wind blew through his fur, whispering to him a song of sorrow. Love never dies.  
  
~fini~

Author's Notes: Um… righty then… not much to say about that, except that it was written for the Jemima/Macavity romance contest at the Jellicle Moon forum. Yeah. *whistles*

--jemi gr 11-august-2003


End file.
